


Strays

by tragiccherrypop



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Gay, LGBT, Lesbians, Mental Illness, Multi, Schizophrenia, Self Harm, Superpowers, Therapy, Violence, just some gay gals with superpowers, schizophrenic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 02:49:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13894632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragiccherrypop/pseuds/tragiccherrypop
Summary: Juvenile-delinquent, Sol Barrows discovers that she's part of something much bigger than herself, and finds place where there are others like her, and she learns that there is a place where she belongs. But will she keep the peace, or will everything go up in flames?





	1. Prologue

Sol began to wonder for a moment, what her mom's head would look like on a post. She smiled to herself at the thought, as if any moment warranted that sick daydream, this would have to be the one.

"She's supposed to be one of the best in her practice so please listen to her for once-hey! Don't give me that," her mother yelled, noticing her daughter's exasperated eye-roll.

Sol gritted her teeth and turned once more toward the car's window, searching for something to look at and hoping she could get lost in it to forgot where she was going-

-and why she was going there. 

Eventually she decided on the dismal gray sky. Though, rainy, hazed atmosphere sadly did nothing to brighten her mood. 

Instead, it opened the floodgates on her memory dam and soon she was relieving each terrible moment that led up to this point, including her mother's horrified expression of learning that her daughter was a nutcase, and closing with a recount of every one of her classmates' broken arms or black eyes.

Sol has spent the last 2 years of her life turning her squeaky clean, valedictorian-esque life into a steamy pile of juvenile-delinquent crap. 

No one, not even her mother, could figure out why half the school suddenly had concussions, or why the straight-A student suddenly turned into a feared predator. But soon "The Red Devil" as Sol was called, rose to the top of the food chain and everyone was at her mercy.

It has seemed to everyone that Sol was just angry-but no one knew why.

Sol herself really couldn't say either. Rage flared up out out of nowhere like an explosion, and the only way to discharge it was physically. Of course, Sol had to admit that a good chunk of her victims definitely deserved what they got. Highschool was a breeding ground for the wicked and ignorant, there were no shortage of sexual harassers and racist assholes that filled those hallow halls. She believed that it was justice.

(But of course, that didn't explain why she couldn't control her fury)

And then the thing-by far the worst moment of her life, the day she officially became a disgrace to her own mother. 

Sol's hands grew hot, the way they sometimes did when she got angry, the more she thought about it. She wasn't lying. The girl could hardly believe it herself, but she wasn't wrong. It had happened, no question.

The car drifted to a stop, tugging Sol out of her thoughts and she lifted her head only to realize the full gravity of the situation. Oh fuck. I really am going to see a goddamn shrink. Because my mom thinks I'm bat shit insane.

Her mom unlocked the teenagers door and handed her a slip of paper, detailing the appointment. "Go in there and give them this and please, don't threaten the psychiatrist!"

With that and a nod, Sol was off to meet her certain doom.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Certain doom, as it turns out, looks like one of those display rooms at Office Depot.

Sol entered the waiting room and was immediately thrust into a feeling of uneasiness. The cushy armchairs pushed off to one side combined with the sterile smell and tan wall paper, Sol could just tell that something was off. This place was just too nice, too perfect, and she proceeded to start massing on her thumbnail out of nervousness.

She walked up to the receptionist desk to her right and greeted the woman sitting there, typing away.

"Uh, hi?" Sol asked, suddenly feeling very awkward and out of place.

The woman glanced up from her screen. "Yes?"

Sol swallowed and held out the piece of paper her mother gave her. "I'm here for an appointment, and I think I'm supposed to give you this?" Anxiety rippled through her stomach and her armpits started to sweat.

The woman gingerly took and and red the information for an agonizing minute before saying: "Dr. Thompson is right through there," she pointed with a gnarled finger, "go on in."

The ginger took a breath and headed through the door.

When Sol got in there, she was automatically put at ease. Incense wafted through the small office, small candles dotted the therapist's desk, and large bean bags took the place of chairs in front of the desk. She could feel the anger toward her mother and the anxiety of coming here melt away into calm, measured waves.

A large woman sat the desk, and as soon she'd eyes met Sol's, she smiled brightly. Her enormous pink ringlets looked like a bouquet of roses, and her chubby face held soft, kind eyes. "Hi, you must be Sol Barrows! I'm Dr. Thompson, it's a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, what pronouns do you prefer?" 

Sol mirrored the pinkette's smile. "She and hers, please." Pronouns? This woman has already won my respect.

"So dear, how are you? You are new here, so I am going to ask, what brings you here today? Counseling, I mean."

Sol's smile dropped and she rolled her eyes, suddenly remembering why the fuck she's even here.

"My mom. She's nothing but fully convinced I'm a schizophrenic, with a heaping dose of delinquency on the side."

Thompson wrote something down on a notepad. "Now why would she think this?"

Sol took a deep breath and prepared to regal this stranger with her life story. 

"Well, ever since I was little I've had these, um, strange occurrences happen around me, and being a "nastily rapscallion" as my mom likes to put it, doesn't help."

The therapist nodded. "Do you think you could describe these occurrences?"

Sol was split. Her anger at this whole situation and mistrust of others made her want to clam up and spite the woman across from her-

-but there's another side that thinks differently, and wants to believe that there was something...supernatural going on. This woman looked so kind, if anyone should believe Sol, why not her?

She bit her lip. "Um. Okay, so...I've lit stuff on fire, ever since I was little. But, like, not with a lighter. With my hands. It's just, I get so angry, and-I don't even know why sometimes-but the only way to get rid of it is to let it out. But sometimes, it sort of, I don't know, creates fire. From my hands." Dr. Thompson scribbled more down on her pad but said nothing, so Sol continued.

"Anyway, one time it happened after a fight with my mom-about me being gay. She was all 'you just say that to spite me, all the kids say it now, you're to young, blah, blah, blah', until I get so mad I storm out and accidentally set a bush on fire in my backyard. She comes out after me and screams, accusing me of being an arsonist, so I spill. I tell her that I did it with my hands and it's happened ever since I was little. She says I'm hallucinating it and decided to send me to therapy. So here I am, a schizophrenic arsonist here for treatment."

Sol chokes out the last bit with a bitter tone. She glances at the doc and expects her to diagnose the teenager, prescribe meds, and she be her on her way.

But if course, what we expect is never like the reality. 

Because instead, Dr. Thomson sported the widest grin Sol had ever seen. The large woman's brown eyes quirked up in excitement.

"Oh my dear, I don't think your crazy at all. In fact, I do believe we've found your quirk!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw Sol is 16-17 and lives alone with her mom


	2. Scene 1

"Wha-huh? Quirk?" Sol sputtered, incredibly confused.

Dr. Thompson nodded. "Yes my dear, your quirk. Your special inate ability."

"What the fu-oh wait, wait. This is a metaphor right? My psychosis is a 'quirk' and I must learn to 'accept it as a part of me'. So now mental illness is quirky?" Sol put her hands up in quotes. She was beginning to get annoyed.

"I guess you don't believe me. Okay, in which case let me ask you a few more questions. Tell me, did you grow up mostly alone? Isolated?" Rose began to write on her notepad.

Sol give a hesitant nod.

"And your father? Can I assume he's no longer with us?"

Another nod.

Rose scribbled some more before looking back up with a blank expression. "Alright, I think I have everything I need to diagnose you with chronic psychosis and schizophrenic disorder. We should began with medication, but factoring in your troubling record, perhaps hospitalization."

"What!?" Sol screamed. "No! I refuse to do that!" Her hands grew hot and red danced in her vision. She doesn't believe me. She's going to throw me in a looney bin. She thinks I'm crazy!

"I'm not going to do that!" Sol barked. Her hands were scorching now. 

Rose shook her head. "Sorry dear, but I'm the medical professional. If I think you are a danger to others, your record seems to support that, then I don't need your consent."

Sol's hands shook with rage. How dare she-she take her away, pump her full of meds, numb her brain? 

I'm. Not. Fucking. Crazy.

"Hell no!," Sol yelled as she brought down a closed fist on the desk. Suddenly, every candle's flame grew 10 times its original size, blazing a brilliant yellow-orange.

Sol stumbled back, falling on the floor, but was too shell shocked to care. "Oh my god. I'm sorry, I don't know what happened-I-"

Dr. Thompson grinned excitedly, her cold demeanor evidently gone, and a new, bright one replaced it. "No, no, dear! No need to apologize. In fact, I owe you the apology. I'm deeply sorry for the nastiness earlier, but I needed to be certain that your abilities are Atypical. Now I'm certain that you a pyrokinetic!"

Sol's mind went blank. Wtf?

"So that...was just...a test? You're not going to actually send me to a hospital?"

The therapist waved away her concerns. "Of course not, dear. Instead, I'm going to share with you a truth about this world. I normally don't do this the first visit, but-well, I do believe these are special circumstances."

The ginger's mind spun as she tried to follow anything that was going on. She always knew her fires were something...otherworldly. But suddenly faced with solid proof-and someone who believed her? Well, this was more than she ever expected.

"But-but-that's not even possible!"

"Well, I think, dear, that since we just saw it with our own eyes, the realm of possibility had just expanded."

Thompson started her tale with a smile. "You see, there is a portion of the population with special powers, quirks, and we call ourselves Atypical. Our bodies are capable of extraordinary things. Yours can create fire and heat with a single touch. Now, there are places for people like us, schools and communities, but I would like to offer you the chance to live with other Atypicals, a place to learn to control your power. What do you think?"

Sol was immediately entranced. She had always fantasied about magic and superpowers, but like most wishes, they died down once she was old enough to focus on the real world. Some part of her maybe even denounced her fires as hallucinations too, but now she was faced with a choice to leave reality behind, leave her suffocating mother, leave her delinquency...she could meet others like her...fit in, for the first time in her life. She could belong somewhere.

Sol looked back up at the therapist and smiled, it was small, but still full. "I'll do it."

\-------------------------------------------------------

"So, where'd would I go?" Sol was not stupid, and thought she should at least find out more about this mysterious place before she seriously considered it.

"Well, I am close friends with the headmaster of an Atypical school, Yellowbrick Academy, and I think you would excel there," said the therapist. 

"Okay, but what about my mom? School supplies? Tuition? I couldn't seriously afford it." Sol frowned.

But Thompson just shook her head. "No need to worry about that. Atypical communities don't usually have fees and for supplies I'm sure I could aid you. As for your mother, if you are willing to leave, I could merely tell her you would be hospitalized."

Sol thought for a moment. A chance to leave? Escape her mother without running away? She wasn't going to pass up this chance.

"Alright-y. But, wait, what are you for then? Some kind of recruiter? Because if there are schools out there for Atypicals, why would they need a therapist?"

The Doctor nodded, as if expecting the question. "I do a lot of things. Some of my patients are typical, but a lot are Atypical adults and youth who can't attend boarding school."

Sol leaned forward in her seat, excitement leaking out of her hungry eyes. The whole you-have-superpowers-thing has already sunken in, but now, the girl was interested.

A question pooped into the ginger's head. "Wait, Doc, you keep saying we. Does that mean you have a superpower too?" 

Dr. Thompson smirked and extended a chubby arm toward a potted plant on the side table. Immediately, the fresh green leaves began to wither and brown until the leave became too brittle to hold itself up, falling to the soil as if part of some time-lapse video. 

Then, the opposite. A bud on the far side on the plant began to grow and open until a magnificent ruby rise bloomed right before her eyes, as if time was racing forward in this plant's life.

Sol gaped at the magnificent display. "That was...beautiful." How could my power every hope to be as awesome as hers?

The doctor beamed with pride at the compliment. "Thank you dear. My control over plant life does seem to awe people."

"I don't think my quirk could ever beat that," Sol pouted, suddenly feeling very defeated.

Doctor Thompson tsked. "Now, now, don't fret my dear. This skill took time and practice. With enough of both, I think your quirk will do wonderfully. You're a natural, I can just tell."

Sol blushed at the compliment, pulling her sweatshirt's strings down and squirming, not used to the attention.

They chatted the rest of the hour, about school, home life, the Atypical community. Sol learned that there were more varied quirks than she ever could have imagined, and that it was common for elementals to have their powers linked to emotion. The doctor learned about the young girl's home life and agreed that her busy mother was a neglectful, toxic parent. Dr. Thompson thought that Yellowbrick would be the best place for Sol at this time in her life, young and inexperienced. She needed support and guidance that her mother could not provide. 

Some time was devoted to Sol's quirk. She could practice, with a lot of concentration that is, making small flames appear on her fingertips. Her therapist tried to get her to establish control over her heat and intensity, asking for just hot hands instead of flames, but it was difficult and they had to stop every once in a while to extinguish a tiny bonfire. Whenever Sol got frustrated, sparks would fly, and things would burn.

The last few minutes was spent discussing when and where Thompson would pick her up to leave for school, what to bring, what to say to her mother, etc. Sol was excited to meet others like her, not only that but a whole fucking school full. She was visibly buzzing in her seat.

When the clock chimed the end of the hour, Sol was beyond exhausted. But it was strange, as this tiredness couldn't be described in words. It was more the specific exhaustion that comes from flexing one particular muscle for hours on end. 

But, Sol still felt free. More than she had in a long time. The anger built up inside her was beginning to calm into measured waves as she now found an outlet, and an answer. She felt curious too. Sol wanted to explore this new facet of herself, and the entire world that came with it.

She was ready. The answer hadn't come fucking soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has a lot of exposition. Once world building is done, the story will pickup


	3. Scene 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sol leaves for the academy

Wvringgggggggggggggggg

Sol slammed her fist down on the alarm and bolted up. She looked at the time. 6:15, and breathed out a sigh of relief that she hadn't missed the doc. She scanned her scuffed JanSport backpack leaning haphazardly against her larger metal suitcase decorated with random bumper stickers found at random middle-of-nowhere truck stops. Good, everything is ready.

It then occurred to her that this would be the last time in her room for awhile, and strange enough, Sol felt herself getting melancholic. Sure, the room itself was a fucking craphole of epic proportions to say the least (seriously, the posters, dirty laundry, books, crumpled homework and drawings, and old McDonald's happy meal toys seemed to physically push the dimensions of the bedroom. One room couldn't simply contain this much stuff), but it was her fortress. Her home-base. Her cave, a sanctuary when everything else in her life went to shit. It meant a lot to her. 

And now she was leaving for god knows how long...Sol sniffed and tried to wipe the sting in her eyes. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Sol shook her and eased herself up, slipping on a tye-dye t-shirt and some shorts before heaving her book-bag onto a shoulder and taking the handle of her rolling suitcase and opening the door. 

In the bathroom she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and ran her fingers through her long wavy mess of copper hair. Can't really do much about that. She grappled her toiletries and threw them into her bag.

Sol reached for the doorknob when a small silver glint of light caught her eye. She turned around and saw the small tube of red lipstick. Never one for makeup, but of course no distant relative could ever believe their niece didn't use this typical feminine product, the ginger had collected a decent collection. She wouldn't possibly need this where she was going, and yet...it seemed to entrance her. 

Sighing, Sol grabbed just the one tube and threw it in. Maybe I'll find a use for it sometime.

Sol slipped out the bathroom, peeking around corners and hoping to avoid her mother as long as possible (but in the Barrows household, confrontation is always a certain). She slinked into the kitchen and saw, to her dismay, her mother hunched over the newspaper and sipping a mug of coffee. When she heard the footsteps, Ms. Barrows turned to greet her daughter with a scowl. 

Sol froze, unsure of how her mother would react. The woman's eyes eventually fell back to her reading. "So, when is she supposed to get you?"

Sol's heart clamored against her ribcage. "Uh, seven. I think."

Her mother sipped the mug and nodded, a few small head jerks that seem to say she has not adjusted to the fact her daughter would be leaving to the looney-bin today. 

They sat in uncomfortable silence until the doorbell eventual chimed and Sol pushed out of her chair and slung her bag over her shoulder. Her mother made no move to get up.

Sol's dirty sneakers scuffed against the hardwood as she went to open the door. Dr. Thompson stood tall in the doorframe, and as she met her eyes, Sol could see them sparkling. A cheddar-yellow car parked on the road behind her.

The rest of her face however, betrayed no emotion. The stoic woman greeted Sol's mom. "Nice to see you, Mrs. Barrows."

Sol's mom cast her eyes down and hugged her arms, guarded. "It's Ms," she bitterly muttered under her breath."

"Excuse me?" 

"Ms. It's Ms. Barrows. Our Mr. is no longer with us," she clarified, shooting a nasty glare at the doctor.

The therapist looked unnerved. "Ah, yes. I'm sorry." 

Ms. Barrows said nothing. Sol looked between the two and sighed. "Okay, so-um...bye, mom."  
The woman looked at her daughter, and it seemed a thousand emotions rushed behind her eyes in an instant, before leaving them a vacant stare once again.

Ms. Barrows looked away. Sol's clenched her fists so tight, her knuckles popped. She started to shake. She's not saying anything. Why is she being so cold? She won't even say a fucking goodbye to her only daughter. 

The ginger's hands started to tingle and grow warm. Not now. Not here.

Sol's mother walked back inside the house only to come out again and thrust a mystery item into Sol's hands. She never met her eyes, but did say something Sol thought she would never hear in a million years.

"It's not much but–well, call it a parting gift. Listen, Sol...I'm sorry. This is for the better."

And with that, the woman pivoted and walked into the house, the door slamming shut behind her.

Sol looked down and unclenched her hand to reveal her mother's mystery gift. It's was a wad of cash, maybe two-hundred dollars in all. 

Dr. Thompson took the handle of Sol's suitcase and began to roll it to the car. "Ready to go?" she called back to the shocked teen. Sol glanced  back at the house before rushing into the passenger seat. "Yeah. I am."

\-------------------------------------------------------

They drove for hours and Sol began to wonder where in the hell this academy could be, because it certainly wasn't in Empire City, nor its surrounding towns.

She was absentmindedly flicking her finger like a match against her thumb and conjuring a small flame. She had been practicing whenever she was alone, and had managed to produce decent sized fireballs around her hands.

Eventually, the doctor spoke up, though her eyes never left the road. "We are almost there, but I need to speak with you before we reach there. At Yellowbrick, you will allowed to have access to the outside world through your phone and such. But, as the Atypical-sphere is still very much a secret, we advise you do not, under any circumstance tell any typical about this school's students, it's location, it it's true purpose. To everyone else, it's a regular boarding school." The therapist's tone felt very serious.

But Sol waved away her concerns. "Yeah, yeah, doc, no need to worry. Big gob-smacking secret, superpowers exist and mass hysteria if it slips out," Sol chuckled to herself. "I've seen enough superhero movies to understand the concept of the mask, don't worry."

The doctor smiled at that and Sol turned back towards the window and whispered with a hit of astoundment and intrigue in her voice.

"Though, it's still so fucking unreal how there's more like me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't added on here in awhile! I keep forgetting. But if you do want to read the chapters as soon as they come out, I suggest following my wattpad (@GingerBloom)


	4. Oveture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sol finally enters the academy and meets its strange staff

After a two hour drive, the cheddar-yellow car finally pulled to a stop. Sol was visibly vibrating in her seat, she was here, finally here.

The delinquent hopped out of the car and stopped. She didn't really know what she expected this Academy to look like–maybe sleek and high-tech? But what she saw instead felt majorly disappointing.

Looming over her was a large, medieval castle, something akin to Hogwarts but not in nearly as good condition.  Chunks of stone were breaking apart from the walls, cracks ran the length of the five large towers jutting from the top, and moss coated a good third of the castle's overall surface. The building itself seemed to be crumbling.

In the front stood a large iron-rid fence with YELLOWBRICK ACADEMY stamped in gold lettering on a sign over its gates. The fence seemed to be the only thing even remotely in good condition.

"Up, doc?" Sol looked back at Thompson. "Are you sure this is it? I mean, don't get me wrong I'm all for breaking and entering into historic places but..."

Sol scratched the back of her head. "This really isn't what I had in mind when you said "atypical academy". It's more of a...craphole than a learning institution."

Doctor Thompson chuckled as she lifted Sol's suitcase and bag from the trunk. "One of its many defenses, my dear." 

And with that she walked over to the gate and withdrew a glittering glass skeleton key and inserted into the lock on the gate. The door creaked open and the doc looked back. "Follow me dear."

Sol stepped through the gate and immediately understood why this place needed to be hidden. Standing before her was an enormous cylindrical tower, looking almost like a layer cake with huge balconies that tapered off towards the tip. It's bricks were a maroon while gold and white accented. Large shiny windows peepers it's walls while an bright blue moat flowed around it.

"The castle exterior is merely a façade to trick typicals. Opening the gate let's you enter the real academy," Doctor Thompson explained.

The space in between the fence and academy was populated by a beautiful blooming garden.   
Towards the back Sol could see a dense forest, while all around her were kids her age growing vegetables and other crops–some with their mind! 

Right in front of them was hundreds of bleeding red poppies and cutting through them leading up through the most to the front door was a wide pathway cobble together from yellow bricks. 

"I see where this place gets it's name." Sol said.

Thompson sighed with a small smile. "In Kansas no less. Atypicals think they're so terribly clever."

The pair started towards the academy along the yellowbrick road as Dr. Thompson was explaining a bit about the school. 

"You'll sleep with three other roommates in a dorm but the majority of your time will be in class or out here on the grounds. You'll get a schedule and a guide for a tour soon but I think you should get settled first."

Sol tried to tune in to what the doctor was saying but her eyes wandered, captured by this place's beauty. In the sky Sol could see shimmering transparent hexagonal plates, they seemed to stretch from the gate like a dome over the academy. Getting closer to the actual tower she saw people on the large balconies practicing their quirks (and a few were–fighting each other?) There were water-benders on the moat's bank creating elaborate figures out of its liquid. One student on a ledge jumped off and soared around with large eagle wings.

Doctor Thompson pushed open the large, heavy wooden doors to reveal a flurry of activity. Students carrying stacks of books and papers racing around to different rooms, teenagers drifting to the bathrooms to awe their friends with amazing displays of their quirks before getting yelled at by teachers ("Do it outside!"). It was utter chaos.

And that happened to be where Sol excelled. Her therapist led her down a winding corridor to what seemed to be some kind of principle's office. A sleek mahogany desk sat at the center like a sun while filing cabinets and papers floated in the air, orbiting it. An older woman sat stopped at the desk, furiously scribbling on a paper before tossing it up and picking a new one from the office supply storm above her head.

Dr. Thompson knocked on the wall to capture the woman's attention. She looked up, her emerald eyes drew tight, and the floating mess drifted back to the ground into a nearly organized system.

"Ah, Rose. It's just you. Hello, and–Sol Barrows, I take it." Woman was old, maybe in her fifties evident by the wrinkles that stretched her thin face. But she didn't look helpless. Her stern green eyes gave off a cold harsh demeanor, and when she stood up to greet them, Sol could see she radiated with authority and power despite her small stature.

Tiny glasses perched atop her bony nose while her luminous silver hair was down up in some complicated braid-bun. She wore a green blazer over an elegant white high collar and a long dark green skirt, finishing it off with a thick black earpiece.

Rose beamed at the woman. "Hi there, old friend. Sol, this is Headmistress Ox."

Sol stood ramrod and extended her hand towards her headmistress and Ox took it, shaking it roughly. "Nice to meet you-uh-ma'am," she said with a nervous grin.

Ox nodded. "Likewise. Now, let's get your schedule." She reached into the air and a file flew out of a folder and into the woman's hand.  
Sol stood wide-eyed. 

Dr. Rose smirked and elbowed her patient. "Ms. Ox is a telekinetic, and a very powerful one at that."

Ox didn't even move her glance from the schedule before responding. "It's not that impressive, though it does come in handy running a school of super-powered children." Though the words seemed dismissive, Ox really did love running her school and cared for each and every student.

Dr. Thompson shook her head. "Always so humble."

Ox smiled and turned to Sol. "Here's your schedule. Class for you starts Monday, which gives you two days to settle in. I'll set up a tour for you in a few minutes. Drop out bags off first then get Dr. Rose here to show you where to meet your guide." She thrust a card key into Sol's hands labeled Room 333. "I'm sure you'll do great here, just try not to make any trouble," she whispered in the ginger's ear.

"Follow me to your dorm, dear." Rose said before walking down the hall. Sol picked up her luggage and started after her before turning back. Headmistress Ox had gone back to writing on her desk. But she saw Ox flash her emerald eyes up once more before looking down again. I'm sure you'll do great here.

Here's to hoping, Sol thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I know I've been gone but I've been busy and have had a writing block. But then all of a sudden I had this explosion of ideas about this story so yeah. This chapter was divided into two parts and next part will be out tomorrow


	5. Scene 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sol gets a tour and the academy is explained (also she swears like a sailor)

Rose led her to her room after an elevator ride and an exhausting three flights of stairs (but why do the room have to be so tall? Honestly!) before depositing her in front of room 333. Sol swiped her key card and entered. 

The suite was pretty–well, sweet. It was huge, housing a mini living area with a couch, recliner, and TV on the right. A kitchen was off to the left with a fridge, stove, oven, and microwave. Straight ahead was two doors, leading to two bedrooms with two beds, two dressers, a closet, and a desk in each. Full bathrooms branched off from each bedroom. Sol had seen some college dorms before but none measured up to this. 

No one else was there. "Class going on," The doc explained. "Your roommates will be back later."

There was a framed map of the academy hung on the wall. Rose pointed at it as she explained the layout. "Okay so the whole tower is pretty much separated into three parts. First is where all the classrooms are, as well as the gym, job board, and mess-hall. This part's the bottom thirty-three floors–"

"Thirty-three!?" Sol yelped.

Rose nodded. "This place needs to be big enough to house its large population. Now two of the elevators only go up through these floors but the Express goes straight up the middle to the top. The next is residential, where all the dorms are. First number of room is floor. There are about ten student dorms on each floor and two staff rooms. Last is referred to as Executive, where most of our staff work. It has people monitoring missions, taking cuff calls, as well as the headmistress' office at the very tip, the hundredth floor–"

Sol shook her head. "Wait, I thought the headmistress was down here? We just saw her."

Rose shook her head. "Ox subs at the ground floor office on fridays for the secretary. She is normally up there. Now...why don't you unpack and I'll wait out here for your tour." With that she turned around to sit on the couch and scroll through her phone. 

Sol's thoughts were a whirlwind. Cuffs? Jobs? What the hell was going on? But she did what she was told and starting to transfer her clothes into her side's dresser after finding her name on one of the bedroom door signs. Next to someone called Max. Max.

After closing it, something caught Sol's eye. On top of her dresser was a stack of books–no wait. Textbooks. I guess the doc held her promise about getting me supplies. 

Sol then proceeded to hang up her decorations, consisting of fairy lights, band/movie/musical posters, and finally a fake cactus for her beside table. She glanced across to her roommates side, and it was...well it was strange. A drum set took the place of a dresser and a computer that look to be as old as time sat on the desk. Books were stuffed under the small bed and clothes seemed to be packed to the brim of the closet. But what did get Sol's attention was the one wall decoration this person had. It was a framed poster of the play Hamilton. Signed by Lin-Manuel Miranda. And all of the original cast. 

Oh shit. Omigod. Okay, Sol don't freak. 

Sol rushed out of the bedroom before she could screem. Rose looked over at her before gently pushing the girl's dropped jaw back up. "Ready dear?"

Sol nodded, still kinda shocked, but she ultimately followed the doctor out.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

"This, dear, is Aza. She'll show you around." Dr. Thompson winked at the older girl standing in front of them. She was tall and muscular with long poker-straight black hair and tan skin. She could've been maybe seventeen or eighteen, but Sol really couldn't tell. Aza had that kind of face that seemed way more mature then their true age. 

The girl looked Sol up and down with sharp eyes. Sol blushed and Aza just nodded. "Yeah I got it. Here, follow me." 

Without waiting for a reply, the black haired teen spun on her heel and walked the other direction.

Rose sighed and bobbed her head towards the older girl. "You better go after her."

"Uh...yeah." Sol waved goodbye and jogged to catch up.

"First I'm going to show you the lower level, you already know the dorm situation, right?" Aza said as soon as the ginger caught up.

"Uh-huh," Sol replied.

"Great." Aza rounded a corner and led Sol throw two propped open doors. Inside were twenty or so long rectangular tables arranged in layered circles around a round table elevated in the middle. "This is out mess hall. Those counters over there," she pointed to about a dozen open windows on the walls around the tables. "That's where we get our meals. Almost everything's free so don't worry about that. Trays are over there and bathrooms are down the hall."

Aza then left and dragged Sol down a few corridors. "These are the classrooms–your schedule should have a map because I am not showing you each and every one. Down there is the gym and weight room," Aza scanned over Sol's lanky limbs. "You might need them."

Aza pulled the ginger out to a balcony. "This is where most students train their quirks. Teachers moniter fights." The teen pointed over to what seemed like some kind of dual. Two boys stood opposite each other in battle stances while an old man with a lab coat watched, slightly bored. 

One boy lunged at the other, his hands out in front growing into sharp, jagged claws. His victim dodged and brought a knee up–buzzing with electricity–into the claw-dude's stomach. The shockwave blasted him off into the bricks and the victor did a little dance to celebrate.

Sol stood shell-shocked. What the fucking hell. She tapped on Aza's shoulder. "Umm...does this happen a lot here?"

Aza smirked. "All the time." Sol gulped. "But most of the students here are trained to use their quirk as a combat skill. That's the whole point if this place."

Sol grabbed her shoulders, much to the older girl's dismay, and yelled in her face. "What do you mean combat!?" 

Aza rolled her eyes and pried the hands off of her. "Relax, spaz. I'll show you."

She grabbed the ginger's wrist and jumped. The pair instantly disappear into thin air–

—and reappeared in front of some kind of large cork-board. Tacked on it were paper, looking almost like wanted posters, with phone numbers and rewards.

Sol collapsed on the ground. "What the fucking hell! What the fuck just happened!?" She started to shake and her hands grew warm.

Aza shrugged. "Sorry. It's just a lot easier than walking." She extended her hand towards the girl on the floor. Sol glared at it for a moment before ultimately taking it and getting yanked up.

Sol rubbed her eyes in frustration. "Okay, now tell me: what the hell was that?"

"Teleportation is my quirk," Aza replied calmly. Then she smirked. "Although some people can't handle it."

Sol gritted her teeth. "Well excuse me for never teleporting before. That's not something is regular folk can do."

Aza grinned. "But I don't think you are a regular folk. At least, not here. So what's yours?"

"My-oh wait. You meant my quirk. It's a ... pyro-whatcha-ma-call it."

Aza's eyes grew wide, impressed. "Pyrokinetic. Nice. That's a good one for combat."

Sol shook her head and clenched her fists. "Okay, what's up with this whole combat thing? I heard 'jobs'? What the fuck is going on?"

Aza put her hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright! I'll tell you. So, ever heard of Corruptions?"

Sol shook her head and Aza nodded. "Figured. They're about as big of a secret as atypicals. So they're pretty much these giant monsters that roam the earth and eat humans. Only reason you haven't seen is because they are protected by this energy called 'The Vale' which makes them look like regular criminals and stuff. Protects atypical power too."

Sol slammed her fist on her palm. "Oh, it's like 'The Mist' from Percy Jackson?"

Aza looked at her, confused. "Uh–sure. Anyway, once an atypical comes into their quirk, they sorta get the ability to see past the Vale which is why we are the ones that protect humanity. Our purpose is to take the jobs listed on the board," she pointed to the cork board beside them. "and complete the mission. It could be anything from monster hunt to tracking down an enemy organization. Our jobs supposed to be done after class, weekends, or break."

Sol rubbed her temples trying to keep up. "Okay, so we use our quirks to help humanity and get rewarded? Is that it?"

"Yep. On top of the rewards form the school, students need fifty credits each year from jobs. I know it sounds like a lot, but some jobs count for a few credits depending on danger-"

Sol stopped her. "Wait–danger? You mean we could get hurt?" Suddenly her heart was racing. I don't want to die doing this. I'd rather take Mom's house to death.

Aza calmed her down. "Chill. Yellowbrick has precautions, you won't get hurt."

"Oh really? And what are those?" She glared at the older girl.  

Aza rolled up her long sleeve and showed Sol a thick, dark grey band wrapped around her wrist. "The Cuff. It's a communication device with the academy. It's also sends off emergency flares if you need a senior to come finish off a dangerous job–wait, do you seriously not have one?"

Sol shook her head. "No. Nobody gave any bracelets to me here."

Aza chuckled. "O-kay then. We'll stop by the Cuff operators next and get you one." She started towards the center of the tower and hit the button on the elevator. "Come on. It's time we go up to Executive."

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

"I just don't understand why you can't just teleport us up. I mean, the Express is pushing ninety floors soon!" Sol exasperated. 

Aza sighed. "I told you. Executive has protections on it. No teleporting and you need authorized access. Even if I wanted to, there's something blocking it."

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Once they arrived, Aza hopped out and pulled the ginger into a large glass room filled with kids their age typing away at their computers. A large East Asian woman stood at the center barking directions into an earpiece.

"This is our hub, a kinda communication center for our academy. All Cuff messages come through here and the Cuff operators monitor missions." Aza explained.

Sol scanned the room and tried to figure out the strange patterns and designs flashing across the operators screen, but failed. "These guys look like students."

"Yeah. If someone can't participate in combat, whether it because of their quirk or a disability, they earn their credits here." 

Sol nodded. "Cool. So, you gonna get me a Cuff now?"

Aza rolled her eyes. "Fine, kid. Let's go." They strolled over to the next room and picked up a Cuff from the distribution clerk. "Here, kid." She tossed the band.

Sol slipped it on and felt the soft, cool metal vibrate subtlety against her skin. "Nice. Thanks. So, now are you going to take me to the Headmistress' office?"

Aza looked at the girl in amused confusion. "Are you kidding? No one is allowed up there–hell, no one can even get up there without strict authorization. Now come on, dinner will be soon." She grabbed Sol's hand and yanked her to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG this chapter was hell to write–it's so long! And I PROMISE world building, for the most part, is done so next chapter will be on Sol meeting her roommates

**Author's Note:**

> Btw all these chapters don't have their italics and I'm too lazy to change them so if you want the good version, go to my wattpad (@GingerBloom)


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